I used to be certain.
Not just confident or comfortable, but certain in the way only a young person can be when handed a complete system and told it explains everything. I had been taught a theology that divided the world neatly into what was true and what was false. It came with answers for every question that mattered and, more importantly, it came with the assumption that those answers were final.
I didn’t question it. Why would I? It was what I had been given. It felt like truth because it felt like home.
When I listen to people argue about theology now, I often recognize something uncomfortably familiar. I hear the same tone of certainty I once had. I see people defending systems they didn’t build but have fully embraced. They assume their conclusions are objectively true and everything else is objectively wrong.
I understand that mindset because I once lived there.

Anatomy of a lie: Why destroy credibility by exaggerating facts?
I wasn’t ready for another dog, but Lucy needed a ‘forever home’
AUDIO: Now is a time to take risk, not the time to be stopped by fear
When times turn too dark in my life, I’m grateful for furry antidepressant
THE McELROY ZOO: Meet Anne, the cat who’d love to live in a shoe
Question the ‘experts’: They don’t know as much as they think
I choose love over hate, because the author of the story’s not done
My life will matter only if I can show love and meaning to others
A tax on folks who can’t do math? Winning may be worst possibility